Amity
by MidnightStarr
Summary: "This is the gift to all of my friends." -Tyson Granger.
1. Comfort

They'd struggled through things together, but this was the first time Raul could say he was openly concerned for his sister.

After their stint in the world championships, they gained... Notoriety. Not exactly fame, but, they weren't ignorable anymore by any means. After the post-tournament publicity and the interviews, they caught up with their traveling family on the road and settled back into life. It was the most comforting thing they'd done since qualifying for the world tournament... There was nothing like safe, and familiar. At least not to Raul.

Away from the cities of grey and back into the tents of bright colors; familiar faces around every corner painted to mask pleased expressions, the roar of lions and the stomp of an elephant or two. The lingering smell of popcorn: the good kind.

And the applause.

Gosh, the applause. Every audience was different in every town, but they all seemed the same to Raul. The same ecstatic clapping that made energy in the center ring almost palpable. It excited the performers; it inspired you to get on with the show and climb higher, reach farther, make them louder. The circus was truly home to Raul. And, compared to the various cities around the globe they'd traveled and the competitors they faced, the circus really didn't seem like the place where he would be forced to discover that maybe, finally, one of them had reached too far for the applause they so loved.

He was still scuffing his feet; kicking up small clouds of sawdust, hay and dirt as he sifted through friends and family clearing away booths and closing down the carnival games. He let his eyes run over one of the tall horses that had been brought out of the show ring as he went along. Big mistake. The fingers hanging at his side clenched into a tight knot and for a second he felt an almost very real, very illogical hate toward the animal that landed him in his current predicament.

Keyword: Illogical.

He ducked inside and under the faded red canopy of the trailer he and Julia shared with their parents, bowl of hot water clutched in his other hand. Raul let the bowl settle on the side table as he watched his sister open her eyes, look him up and down for a moment from her bunk.

"You need to calm down Raul. I'm fine."

"You're lucky to be alive." The clipped tone of his voice made Julia do a momentary double-take. Her brother was right; it's not that he wasn't. But she was still unused to her normally quiet sibling speaking out so rudely. Lest of all to her. Raul had grown up a lot over the last couple of months traveling the world to beyblade, and while Julia was proud of him...

At times like this she wanted to box his damn ears.

"I fell, Raul, it happens. It's a new routine, I haven't had much time to practice-"

"You won't be practicing it again either if I have any say in the matter." He plopped himself down on Julia's bedside and dipped a cloth into the steaming water, wringing the fabric with his hands and neverminding the throbbing burn of the temperature. "Let me see."

"No, you're being unreasonable!" When her younger brother tried to pull at the collar of her shirt on her affected side she cringed and jerked herself away from him in bed; a move that would be undeniably regretted right after when it sent another spike of pain radiating up Julia's left arm.

"Julia, stop being so foolish!" The younger Fernandez bit his tongue and took a deep, sobering breath. ' _Anger is not the answer... She doesn't need this right now. And neither do I_.' "Look, just let me see..."

That eye-roll. So like his big sister.

Julia wanted to protest. But during their time as semi-finalists, she came to learn that maybe she didn't always have to rule over her poor brother with an iron fist. Romero tried to be as diplomatic about it as he could, he really did; but at the end of the day in their dressing room he just told her: 'Julia my darling, you can be quite a bitch. A great talent; just oftentimes overshadowing.' So, with a renewed determination to _not_ be such a bitch (at least not all the time), she allowed her younger brother to tug down the fabric of her loose cotton overshirt.

It was still swollen.

"I don't understand why you couldn't just listen to Mom and Dad and-"

"You don't _get it_!"

His fists tightened into balls once more and hot water escaped the rag, running over his fingers.

"Then, help. me. Help me ' _get it_.'" Raul took care to fold the washcloth he'd been intent on strangling before his words and carefully laid it over the exposed, reddened flesh of Julia's left shoulder.

"Are you going to try and understand instead of being melodramatic and bitchy about it?"

Raul leaned backward and took another deep breath, trying to level out the playing field inside his own head. His sister was hurt; he'd rationalized this before. He shouldn't go at her angry and make things worse. It wasn't how fights were solved. He knew that very well actually: because this situation wasn't new to them. Not at all.

It's just that usually, the shoe was on the other foot.

It was Raul who made a mistake. " _You need to work harder Raul, this is unacceptable!_ "  
It was Raul who did something wrong. " _Do it again Raul! God, I can't carry this team on my own!_ "  
It was Raul, who was internally crying out ' _you don't get it... You_ never _, get it_.'

That was their story. Julia was the bright hopeful full of talent, and Raul was the young drag-along who had to work extra hard to meet even the minimum of Julia's standards. From ribbons to ripcords, they'd fought and quarreled and Raul had let himself be practically bullied to achieve the perfection that his sister wanted. Because if Julia was anything, she was a perfectionist. Every dance move with perfect pointy feet. Her attacks were so calculated that it was like choreography, crafted to the core. She never slowed down her pace for anyone.

She always expected Raul to keep up.

"No. Just tell me why you thought it was a good idea, sis."

 _It was the last show of the last evening. The carnival had finally worn out its welcome in this town and the crowds had diminished._

 _"I think I'm going to try it." She looked at her twin, barricaded away from the rest of the performances by the big-top tent flaps; two faces covered by a veneer mask, ready to perform what was old and reliable and popular._

 _"Try what? ...What? Julia, you've barely practiced that! Romero told us the horses need more work!"_

 _"I think they're ready... After all, once the crowd starts cheering I don't think it'll really be different from commanding Thunder Pegasus. And I know the steps. I know I do."_

 _"No, Julia I don't think-"_

 _"Hey, Claudio!" She'd already turned her head up to the steel ladder that lead upward and into the red and blue tent. The circus' light and sound guy used that entrance to arrange his equipment. Soon a face popped out of the tent and he raised an eyebrow._

 _"What's up?"_

 _"I'm doing the horse routine I've been practicing. Get my spot and light up the entire ring when I go out."_

 _"Alright."_

 _"No! Julia, it's the middle of a show you can't make a change like this-"_

 _"Oh be quiet Raul! Your nerves aggravate me. Just go tell Horace that the horses are staying in the ring for the three-quarter break but that he can take the harnesses."_

 _"Sis, please, just not until you've practiced a little more... Please?"_

 _"Fine, if you won't, I will." She walked away from him in the dusky sunlight to go find their animal director. Raul was instantly worried. He'd seen her practice, all of five times he might add, and Julia was still shaky on her feet on those horses. The tall black and whites of the circus were trained well and friendly creatures, but they weren't used to having a person stand up on their backs. Once or twice during Julia's rehearsals, she'd nearly fallen. Romero had told her she needed more work._

 _...Romero._

 _Raul's eyes immediately searched the filled courtyard for a clock: someone with a watch so he could see what time it was. When he found none, he peeled back the red curtain of the big house once more to see what act was in the showring. He probably didn't have much time to put a stopper in the plan before his sister did something foolish._

 _'The mini-bikes... That's not good, she'll be the next act when they pack up the bike loops..!' Raul turned and ran. He made his way frantically through leaving people, families with excited children and crying babies and more of his own kind looking for his blonde coach._

 _'Romero will talk some sense into Julia, or even go tell our parents what she's up to. I gotta stop this fast.'_

 _By the time he found his coach and he and Romero were running back toward the tent, they passed three empty stalls that had been set up for the horses._

 _"Oh no."_

 _They made it back just in time to see the action._

 _Typical daring circus music was playing over the loudspeakers; the new act and something out of the ordinary had drawn every employee eye that could be spared and most of Raul's circus family were standing somewhere slightly out of sight in the darkness, wondering how Julia's new act would go over with the crowds._

 _'Is she ready to perform that?'_  
 _'I didn't think so.'_  
 _'I guess we'll find out.'_

 _It happened faster than anyone expected. Julia lost her footing from the back of the black stallion, parading down the middle._

 _She went down quick and she went down hard and the crowd was a roar of shock and shame. Raul was almost certain that the whites were going to trample her to death._

 _He and Romero got in there as swiftly as they could and with a few other pairs of hands, managed to get out of harm's way with their injured teammate in tow._

 _He was pretty sure he was crying._

"It's different..." Julia rolled her eyes, looked up at the sunlight filtering through the gaps in her trailer's canopy. "We've been doing the same old routines for awhile now Raul. I just wanted to shake things up a little."

"'Shaking things up a little' isn't worth your life Julia! I can't believe you were so foolish-"

"Hey little brother, _you've_ been foolish before too!"

"Not in a way that nearly dislocated my shoulder. Or could've broken my neck." He grumbled. Gently lifted the cloth off his sister's arm and resoaked it in the hot water and replaced it again. "Ending up at the hospital with you last night was not how anyone wanted that show to go Julia. You need to realize that."

"I do Raul, do you think I'm stupid?"

Her tone, her words, all of it was just getting to be a little too much.

Raul knew his place. He wasn't the gutsy sibling, or the strong one... But he knew when his emotions were causing problems. He stood up and waved his sister's comment off before disappearing out through the flaps of the tent.

"Raul-!"

"Very much ouch."

Julia rolled her eyes with a groan, closing them to the condescending face she heard step into her tent.

"You were eavesdropping?"

"It's what I do." Her blonde captain sat himself down on a small wooden stool and pulled it closer to her bedside. "You do look like crap, if I say so myself."

Her cheeks reddened and Romero could practically sense the coming argument. The flambuoyant man sighed.

"Haven't you learned anything at all Julia?"

"About what?! What is it that you all want me to say?!" She raised her uninjured arm to wipe some sweat from the warm summer weather off of her brow and made a bit of a face as even that movement caused her shoulder to pull uncomfortably. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I fell, I don't know what else to say to him!"

"You could start with that." Romero chuckled and crossed one leg over the other. "You scared the poor boy out of his wits girl, I think he truly thought he'd lost you."

She hated being lectured... She hating being lectured the way she hated being coddled. It didn't suit her. It wasn't necessary. Not for her. Her cheeks got hotter and Julia hated that too.

Hated it just as much as watching her brother's disappearing back and his tears the night before.

"Yeah, well... Tell him to come back in Romero. I didn't mean to mess up the show, I really didn't." She put her well arm over her eyes, as if that could hide the embarrassment of admitting she was actually wrong about something. "I just..."

"Just what?"

She wanted to roll her eyes again.

"Sometimes it's nice to do something for myself... When I go on with Raul, it seems like everybody is looking at him."

Now that brought one of Romero's blonde eyebrows shooting into his hair. He'd wondered often if being painted a bit of a nuisance on television during the championships had gotten to his younger female teammate. It was no shock that the crowds thought she was unduely harsh to her little brother, and she received a bit of criticism in the media. But for every critique, there was a supportive comment to make up for that. What Raul hadn't been expecting was that Julia: the eldest of the twins, show-off grand supreme and one of the best dancers he'd ever laid eyes on, was actually feeling jealous.

"And now... Just, how the hell do I say that to him without feeling and looking so useless?"

Romero looked over his shoulder, and Julia followed his gaze to the open tent flaps carried with a 'whap' by the summer breeze. Her younger twin was on his way back toward her trailer with a plate of foil-wrapped supper. Julia let the arm drop from her forehead with a groan.

Romero just looked at her, and touched a single finger to his nose before rising up from his seat and ducking out past Raul as he walked in.

The younger Fernandez watched Romero go and raised an eyebrow. "He was checking on you?"

"Of course." She cleared her throat a bit awkwardly. "What else is he good for anyways...?"

Raul shrugged and took the now-vacant stool. She watched him as he set about carefully un-wrapping the plate he'd gotten from the meal prep cabin, pulling a couple utensils out of his pocket. The silence of it all unnerved her; just the tinkling of the aluminum foil and the busy whirring background noise of their family, closing up shops and releasing tethers to haul down tents.

What she wouldn't have given to be in his head.

"Raul...?"

The tone of his sister's voice made the ginger-haired man raise his head, and an eyebrow.

"I just wanted to do something new... Something that I could do alone. It's hard always being in a dual act you know... Since, since the tournament, you get most of the attention." She watched Raul's eyes widen a little, those greens going to an almost comical diameter before she continued. "Call me jealous, call me immature. I'm not perfect... I make mistakes."

The rest of her words found themselves lucky not to have fallen on deaf ears. The younger brother was running over the notion of it in his mind. His sister, not the star of the show...? Unheard of. Raul had spent his entire life in her shadow. Hell, most of the tournament too.

What did she really think had changed?

"You're... Delusional." He reached his hand out and placed the back of it against her sweating forehead. "And you're sweating. Maybe you have an infection, I should tell our parents."

"What?" She shoved off his hand with a grimace. "Grow up. Don't make fun."

"I'm not. Julia, I don't even understand how you could possibly think they pay more attention to me. I spend every minute I'm in the ring focusing on not making a mistake."

"Liar."

It was so dang funny to Raul that at this point he actually laughed. "No, really, sis... I need you out there. If I didn't have you, I don't think I could be as confident... It's nice knowing they have you to watch just in case I fall on my ass and make a fool of myself."

Julia took a deep breath in, and then she let it out. "You're full of shit little brother, but whatever you say." That smile though, replacing the blush with a grin told Raul everything he needed to know. "I guess today I learned the same thing."

"What's that?"

"That without you I'm less confident." Her smile had faded some, and it didn't make her look sad. In the strangest way the older Spanish sibling held a look of relief on her face, as if knowing her twin shared her thoughts made it all easier to admit to. The anger between them had long faded away, and she had the distinct feeling that the worry had decreased a lot too. "I learned a little in the championships... But I learned a lot last night."

"Well... That's why we're a team."

Raul beamed at her so big and so genuine, the way only her brother could. "Now eat your dinner, it's getting cold."

Romero watched his prodigies from his little hide-out, pleased and surprised all at the same time that the twins had not yet figured out that the eyes of circus folk miss nothing. They see the weakness in a boyfriend's eyes to goad him into a game of hoops to win a teddybear for his girl. They see the riders that you need to watch out for: they're going too gray and soon they'll have to call a janitor.

Romero shook his head. Right now he could see the future, and he knew it definitely looked a lot brighter.

* * *

 **MS:** I'll start off by saying that the support I received to write this fic and actually get it going was amazing. I have no one but the Tumblr Beyblade fandom to thank for this! I'm in the midst of studying for my NCLEX, graduating from nursing and starting a new position so basically I have T -100 time and somehow I wanted to pull this together for you guys: you're all so amazing!

In saying that, I chose F-Dynasty to start off with because I find them a very difficult team to comprehend. Honestly all the G-Rev teams are a bit hard to comprehend to me... I'm not sure why; maybe it's the age I was when I watched G-Rev? It's my least favorite season of the 3 so that could be why. I need to rewatch the series of episodes that corresponds to each of their teams. Each chapter will feature a different team, and if when all the teams are done people would like the story to be continued we'll do that and if not I'll wrap it up.

I've got about 5 paragraphs written into the next chapter of this, so that's a good start! Especially for me lol. But I'm really counting on you guys to keep at me about it: like send me a bunch of rude anons like 'wtf why don't you update' or something please hahaha. I'm also open to requests! If you guys have an idea that you'd really like my take on, something for me to try, I'd love to hear it. :) Thank you again for the fuckton of support. You're all the best. Seriously.


	2. Presence

It was a tense, unspoken thing for awhile.

Garland placed another spoonful of the soup his family's kitchen had prepared into his mouth and watched the various eyes around the table circle their own plates, fork or knife or spoon or whatever their own servings.

The atmosphere had started off very warm; none of them really expected it wouldn't.

It had been awhile, after all, nearly five months and even though their time together as a team was short that didn't mean they wanted to never revisit it.

Garland himself had missed the slight comraderie, and, not to be egotistic, but he also missed the respect. Beyblading had turned out to be the sport he would not be the best at: but something he admired, loved, and loved to see people enjoy. He loved to teach and to coach, to watch his team and their vast array of talents come to light in the beydish. They'd all honestly surprised him, and in big ways.

Who knew Ming Ming was actually good? He thought she was glitz and glamour and gutless. Crusher's passion had really inspired him. Garland loved his family too, and he was sure he would've done the same. Mystel was always entertaining, always so surprising but so fun-loving at the same time. A breath of fresh air.

And then there was-

"So, Brooklyn... How have you been feeling darling?"

Ming Ming's high, tinkling voice finally cracked the silence and the man in question raised his eyes from his gourmet plate and cleared his throat.

Brooklyn had seemed to lose a lot of what made him Brooklyn.

He lost it like Tokyo lost skyscrapers and cars. He lost it like people lost money. Insurance companies called his storm an 'act of god', of course. Refused to doll out for the destruction Brooklyn and Tyson had caused.

"I'm... Doing better, fairly well I think." Brooklyn smiled but it wasn't the serene, 'I've got no cares in the world' smirk that made people envious of him. It was much more tired, and much more weary. Who the fuck could blame him.

"That's good... I've been thinking about you so much while I've been resting!"

"That's kind of you."

Mystel and Crusher watched their solo female teammate's attempt at striking up conversation and shifted a little in their seats.

Mystel felt out of place; awkwardness was just something he didn't do, he didn't feel. This was strange and new. He didn't want to feel this way... He didn't _want_ to wonder if Brooklyn was a detriment to society and all living things. He didn't _want_ to think that of the man he'd come to call friend during their time together...

But he did.

And it shifted around underneath his tanned skin like a bacterium: a moving, living, reproducing bead of shame and guilt and disturb that refused to leave him alone to just eat his gourmet supper and enjoy it.

"So-"  
"I think-"  
"How is-"  
"When are-"

So many voices tried at the same time to beat the awkward that it was almost comical. All except one.

Brooklyn didn't know where to look as the rest of his team fumbled to fill the silence.

"..." Garland cleared his throat with a cough. "Well then. Crusher, how is Monica?"

"Yes Monica!"  
"How's her recovery been?"

The redhead watched as the conversation began to not-so-subtley steer away from him. He couldn't blame them... Brooklyn barely knew what to say to himself. Nevertheless, he and Garland had decided this would be a good idea. Brooklyn had been working on getting better... Socializing was how he was going to get better.

Less time spent listening to the other voice.

"Monica is doing great! She's home now and everything. Up and walking on her own!"

"That's great Crusher!"  
"I'm so proud of her!"  
"Excellent news!"

Brooklyn could see the pride and saving-grace that was so exuberantly put forward by Crusher's expressive face. Monica meant the world to the large man and it was very plain to see. Once the emotion seemed to become a little much (and that nagging thought that says 'cut it you're staring'), Brooklyn tilted his blue eyes down toward the food on his plate. A side bowl of miso soup; a beautifully-constructed salad full of garden greens that Garland had specially prepared for him. What a shame that it would probably be wasted.

The expansive dining room had once more elapsed into silence, and while it was now probably comfortable for the other patrons, Brooklyn was stirring inside. Always. Still trying to make sense of everything.

His mind was on eternal reply, a constant reminder of everything he'd done and been and what he did to screw it all up.

What Zeus did.

In fact, in the constant running around of his own mind Brooklyn had so successfully blocked out the rest of the room that-

"Brooklyn?"

"Hm?" He was jarred from his thoughts as Garland's voice finally pierced the veil.

"You've barely said two words. Are you still with us?"

That question made Brooklyn run his eyes over the rest of his teammates: finding Ming Ming, eyes very openly displaying concern, Crusher tapping the lip of his mug with a fork, Garland at his side and Mystel across the table with a tilted head.

"Oh, yes... Yes. I'm sorry."

Was he, still with them...?

Someone else begged to differ.

"Sorry, if we're not that interesting..." Mystel's soft voice lured Brooklyn's eyes to him and despite how separated and exiled Brooklyn felt, he couldn't help but pout a bit at the fact that his teammates probably suspected he wasn't listening on purpose.

"No no, you're not boring at all." Brooklyn sat up a little straighter; he cleared his throat, and lifted up his fork. He stuck the spines downward into the luscious greens of his kale and spinach and lettuce and decided that he had to at least play the part of okay. "I was just wondering how I could fit my supper down. Garland always has way too much prepared."

He didn't meet his silver-haired teammate's eyes. Both of them knew very well that Brooklyn had barely eaten in months. In fact, pounds had been lost from that tall body and his eyes had grown more sunken, further away than they'd ever been. While Brooklyn felt the changes, felt the way he began to droop like a flower needing a long cold drink, he still somehow hoped that no one could see them.

But he was wrong. All of them could see... And Garland especially had seen his 'absences.'

"...Anyways." Ming Ming's chirp brought the rest of the table to attention again. "I actually got all of you a present... I brought you all copies of my new single!" Her eyes were bright with enthusiasm. "I worked hard on it while I was away. I really hope you guys enjoy it!"

There was laughter and grins, Garland clapped his hands a little. "I can't wait to hear it."

The side of Brooklyn that was but a muted whisper kept talking to him, kept telling him to say something, say something say anything... But no words came. He just looked back down at his plate, and lifted a forkful of salad into his open maw.

The rest of the dinner went like that... Brooklyn sitting in near silence while he felt occasional eyes on him, listening to the dull chatter of his previous teammates.

He was excited to see them... It's not that he wasn't. He was just.. So...

When you've been torn down so many rungs and you were so cruel and so monstrous... How do you face the people you've hurt?

 _'Oh no._ ' Things were going gray. He looked down at his plate and swallowed roughly. He was getting pulled-

Brooklyn blinked, and they were no longer in the house.

He looked around from side to side, finding himself walking now out into the sunlight of the garden. Mystel and Crusher were ahead of him, he could see them laughing: previous memories of comraderie. Brooklyn felt a touch to his shoulder, and Garland smiled down at him as he pushed through Brooklyn and another small form.

Ming Ming was at his side, arm in arm with him actually, and Brooklyn could only blink some more.

He'd just been inside-

"Brooklyn?"

He looked down at her, "Yes?"

"Is everything okay?"

"I..."

"Nevermind." He looked back down at her, and then ahead as she did: watching the backs of their friends continue down the grassy knoll until they came to a stop at the edge of Garland's large koi pond; something his gardener mother had been working on for years. It was a beautiful setting... Brooklyn had fond memories of their training days, sitting on the concrete benches while birds chattered on around him and the fish bobbed their mouths for flies.

"I, I am okay Ming Ming... I'm sorry for seeming so distant."

Her blue head turned upwards as they paused on the tiny grass hill and she shrugged. "You think we were expecting a sparkling, brand-new you? We weren't Brooklyn. But, we were expecting you to be as happy to see us as we were to see you."

He frowned. "But I was-"

"You didn't act like it... You know, we're still your friends, and we've forgiven you for what happened. In fact.. We would rather think of it as not your fault."

"Not my-?" Time seemed to shift around them again... He was sitting, in the process of, and he almost gasped a bit as he felt his behind come to rest on the warmed concrete of the koi pond bench. Crusher, Garland and Mystel had moved a few feet away, to the other side of the pond, walking about and talking about the plantlife.

"It wasn't your fault."

"It was." His voice was stronger now than Ming Ming had heard it all day, "It was my fault. I let Zeus convince me to do terrible things. I could've killed people. I could've killed Tyson. I badly hurt Kai. I'm not innocent Ming Ming..."

"But you're not evil either."

Again the smaller lady's words took him off-guard, and Brooklyn almost felt himself tremble. Why did it feel so opposite...? And why could he now feel the eyes of his other friends, watching him, and he could almost palpate the worry in the air, the concern for him.

Garland had basically kept him a prisoner in his home, wouldn't let him leave... Maybe, not because he was dangerous... But because his captain knew he needed time to heal. And Crusher, all the letters and the emails... Mystel sent souvenirs.

He thought they were pity presents... Sent to the ailing family member in the hospital. Honestly, what else could you send someone you were trying hard not to hate...?

"But... I did so many bad things..."

"And you do good things too..." Ming Ming kicked her hanging ankles, scuffing the bright green of the garden floor. "We're your teammates Brooklyn. If we could've helped you back then, we could've prevented all of this.. Pain and misery! But we didn't... We couldn't... So that's our cross to carry."

The air around them was fragrant but still, and his blue eyes were so trained on the melancholy girl beside him that Brooklyn was almost pathetically afraid to lose the moment, lose time, skip it again and again.

 _'No, Zeus, no, DON'T YOU TAKE THIS MOMENT AWAY FROM ME!'_

"It's not your... Not your fault..."

Things were getting further and further away. The voices they were getting softer, _'No! Come back...!'_

He watched from a distance as Ming Ming turned her head and yelled to Crusher to get something from her car. He saw their greying backs move out of sight but Ming Ming was still beside him, he was being pulled away again, he was being drowned, his fingers hurt from crawling back to reality and he was going to be alone again. Alone in his mind. Alone with himself. Alone with Zeus.

 _'No, no please, don't let him take me..! I want to stay here, with you...!'_

They were coming back. Ming Ming turned her head back to Brooklyn, her copper skin looked perfect like it always did and it wasn't black or blurry and she smiled. Crusher and Mystel, Garland too, they were getting closer and closer the colors were getting brighter. Brooklyn could hear them now... See them, hear them, a weird rattling of metal and something in Crusher's hand...?

"Hold your hand out Brooklyn."

Her voice was right beside him again... He was still here.

He held out his shaking hand, palm up, and felt...

Brooklyn blinked.

A small white dove, a tender, tiny little thing, pranced in his palm and lifted a wing to pick away at unruly feathers with a grey beak.

He was still here.

"It's a bird... A bird? For me?" More blinking, he felt his captain put a hand on his shoulder as if to steady him because while his other teammates kept in the loop, they had been away. But Garland knew what it was like to see him... Disappear. Just, disappear, for awhile.

He shook his heavy head and looked back down at the beautiful white creature.

"Yeah, I got you two of them!" Ming Ming gestured toward the source of the metal rattling: a large, brass cage in Crusher's hand where one more bird sat perched on a dainty little swing. "They were a gift from a fan... But I don't have the time, and, frankly Brooklyn, I don't have the patience either. But I know you do! I know they'll be safe, and happy with you..."

"It's a great choice!" Mystel beamed at him.

"Brooklyn is the pro-bird mama." Crusher laughed, closed the cage door so the second bird couldn't make a break for the border.

Garland gave his shoulder a squeeze, and Brooklyn slowly raised his other hand to brush a knuckle against the delicate white breast feathers of the small bird. Soft... Gentle... Real.

"I... Thank you. I'll take good care of them."

There was a little coo in response and he smiled... Just a little one, but he smiled.

He was still here.

* * *

 **MS:** Hey everyone! I hope this chapter felt as jarring and disembodied as I tried to make it lol. It's hard to write crazy, even for me ;) Again I need to thank two wonderful friends for the inspiration to write this chapter: Gems and Aly, you guys are the best! I hope you all read and review. Never forget to support the fics you enjoy; you are undoubtedly making someones' day.


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